The allowed way
is not here; not on this creative
trail where a delay can actually be
quicker, when a halting of the process
moves things along and no one saw
that coming, but wherever you are is
not as important as where you see
yourself going.
I picked you.
I threw away many of my plans
for the future as I made,
sure that you are all I was ever
really dedicated to; and why not…
you made me feel so rejuvenated that I
consumed whatever you were nice enough
to give me. I just want to feel your
hands, and I know you will tell me if
you want me.
oh, wait,
no you won’t.
I am the path, and the destination.

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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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